Qi Family Gang (12)

Nan Yue focused her gaze on the center of the room, where a section of the bamboo floor was darker than the rest.

It looked as if it had been stained by some kind of liquid splash.

"It's that same aquatic fishiness, and... the smell of blood."

Gu Xiang Kai looked over. "Someone died in this house."

Nothing ventured, nothing gained; Nan Yue told Gu Xiang Kai to wait outside as she prepared to enter the house.

But as soon as she finished speaking, Gu Xiang Kai used his robust frame to squeeze past her and enter the room first.

The stilt house did not block light well, and the setting sun dyed the interior in a layer of blood-red.

The house had clearly been uninhabited for a long time, as the smell of mold was heavy.

The two of them crouched next to the dark section of the floor.

Whatever had soaked into it to cause the discoloration had happened long ago; Nan Yue looked around and tossed a meditation mat onto it.

When she picked it up, there was a slight stickiness.

"Are you... a villager of Fish Fry Village?"

Zhu Xi Ning's voice drifted up from below. Nan Yue and Gu Xiang Kai exchanged a look, stepped out of the house, and looked down from the external staircase.

At some point, a person wrapped in white cloth had appeared.

He stood opposite Zhu Xi Ning, saying nothing.

Zhu Xi Ning stared at the strange figure. This person was completely covered in white cloth, including their face.

It was impossible to tell their gender or features; even their hair was wrapped up. To put it bluntly, the person looked like a living mummy.

"We are from the Qi Family Gang, here to deliver your goods."

Zhu Xi Ning pointed at the jars below. "Those jars."

The person said nothing after hearing this, merely turning around to walk toward the village entrance. Zhu Xi Ning and the others had no choice but to follow.

When they reached the entrance, they discovered that several more people, similarly wrapped so tightly that their features were indistinguishable, had emerged from the settlement.

As long as there were people, it didn't matter how strange they were; they could finally finish the job.

Headman Qi dismounted and signaled Manager Wu to bring out the receipt.

This was a confirmation of delivery, similar to a courier's sign-off sheet.

Manager Wu stepped forward with a face full of smiles and held it out to the villager in the lead.

"It's the gang's rule. If you could please sign this for us, or even just a thumbprint would do."

He worried that Fish Fry Village, being isolated for so long, might not know how to write official script.

Whether the villager understood or not, they didn't reply. They simply took the receipt and the charcoal stick and made a series of random marks.

Manager Wu breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't care what was drawn; as long as the process was complete, their job was done.

"Alright then! I'll have the boys help you unload the jars."

Several strong horsemen stepped up to move the jars. Everyone was eager, wanting nothing more than to get rid of these hot potatoes as quickly as possible.

The five large jars were placed on the ground. Before Manager Wu could say anything else, a crisp crack echoed out, and the five large jars all split open simultaneously.

The expressions of Headman Qi and Manager Wu changed instantly. Although the employer had already signed for them, if a problem arose now, it would be hard to say whether they had made a mistake on the road.

Fine cracks spread across the jars. Even though everyone was praying for them not to break, things rarely go as planned.

Crack.

Snap.

Bang!

The five large jars burst completely open.

Headman Qi's heart sank. Setting aside the issue of damaged goods, the contents of these jars were unusual and shouldn't be seen by outsiders.

If they appeared so openly before everyone, Headman Qi worried these strange villagers might decide to silence them.

But to their surprise, while the jars were supposed to contain water and skeletal remains, no water flowed out.

In fact, once the jars shattered, what they saw was...

Rice.

Grains of bright white rice.

A large quantity of rice poured out as the jars broke, scattering across the ground.

The water and bones they had seen previously were nowhere to be found.

There was only pearly white rice.

Everyone froze on the spot, but the villagers didn't seem to care much about the damaged goods. Some had already brought out new jars and began to clean up.

The members of the Qi Family Gang finally snapped out of it and stepped forward, somewhat embarrassed, to help.

"Son of a... what we saw that day must have been a hallucination. It was probably miasma in the forest."

"That's right. They probably don't have rice here and need it delivered from outside."

Listening to the discussion between Headman Qi and Manager Wu, Nan Yue's sense of crisis did not vanish.

Everyone went up to help scoop the rice that had fallen on the ground back into the jars. Rice had to be washed before cooking anyway, so a little dirt wouldn't hurt.

When Jiang Yuhao was about to step forward, Zhu Xi Ning pulled him back.

"That rice... something is wrong with it."

In Zhu Xi Ning's eyes, that rice looked just like the white mist that had condensed earlier. No matter how one looked at it, it was best not to touch it.

Jiang Yuhao immediately nodded and stood beside Zhu Xi Ning. He looked at the rice, unable to wrap his head around it.

Hadn't they said it was water before?

Jiang Yuhao knew it wasn't the time to talk. Just as he was about to move further away, he suddenly noticed the rice in the jar seemed to...

It seemed to move.

In that instant, Jiang Yuhao felt as if he saw countless writhing grains of rice; his vision even blurred slightly.

But it was only for a second, and things quickly returned to normal.

Rice was still rice.

Ordinary rice.

Was it just his eyes playing tricks on him?

Jiang Yuhao whispered what he had seen to Zhu Xi Ning, adding a sentence.

"I haven't slept well these past two days. It might just be my eyes."

Zhu Xi Ning gave him a deep, meaningful look.

After finally finishing the task of picking up the rice, the sky had begun to darken. No one was willing to head back into the rainforest at this hour.

Especially knowing there might be miasma in that jungle.

Many of them were still feeling itchy, their exposed arms scratched raw.

It didn't feel like mosquito bites; those red rashes appeared in large patches.

So everyone wanted just one night—one night where they could sleep soundly.

Besides, now that the cargo was unloaded, they could pick up the pace on the return trip and finish it in half the time.

Headman Qi naturally thought the same. He hadn't quite figured out how to communicate with these people to ask for a room when the villagers picked up the jars and left.

Not a single one spoke to them.

Headman Qi patted his chest, feeling somewhat bewildered.

He had traveled far and wide, and it wasn't as if he had never been to remote villages, but this was the first time he had seen one this strange.

Each person was wrapped up like a bundle, with nothing visible but their eyes; even their mouths were covered.

He hadn't heard them speak at all.

"Headman, there are quite a few abandoned buildings here. How about we spend the night there?"

Villages usually had some way of repelling insects; resting in the settlement was better than sleeping against a tree back in the forest.

The villagers who hadn't gone far showed no reaction to this suggestion. Headman Qi thought for a moment, pulled some silver from his robe, and stepped forward to press it into the hand of a villager who wasn't carrying a jar.

The moment he touched the other person, Headman Qi felt a cold shiver run through him.